Fixing Facts
by Naked Pen
Summary: My first fic! Hermione is worried that her lack of "experience" will affect her relationship with Draco, so she sets out to fix her inadequacies, one at a time. Join her as she not only improves, but discovers herself as well. DHr, smutty, language. r&r!
1. Inexperience

_Hermione Granger is fucking Draco Malfoy_.

From the time she learned to spell properly, Hermione Granger had always written down facts. Keeping things neat, precise and easily-accessible was her way of dealing with any trouble that may pop up in her life and ensuring that nothing was unmanageable or confusing. Once it was put down on parchment in a clear, easy-to-understand format, it was easier to deal with. If things were not written down, she found she was immobilized by the weight of her problems, never knowing where to start fixing things.

She looked at the latest statement in her small, brown Fact Book and sighed, biting the end of her quill.

_Poorly_, she amended.

_Hermione Granger is fucking Draco Malfoy. Poorly._

The freshly-inked sentence glistened in the candlelight, mocking her. Bracingly, she reminded herself that the purpose of this particular ritual was self-improvement, goal-setting and acknowledgement. Not mockery. The statement was there to help her, not harm.

Her Fact Book was nondescript, easy to store among her various school books. It held everything from _Hermione Granger has ugly brown hair _to _Hermione Granger does not have cooties and Markie Monfir is a stupid git_. In the last few years, the facts had become markedly more interesting, ranging from _Hermione Granger is a witch _(which had been written five times, each less shakily-written than the previous one, until it had finally, finally sunk in) to _Hermione Granger has friends now _to _Hermione Granger prefers being half a cat to being Petrified _to _Hermione Granger can't live up to this much longer_. Her most recent entry was scrawled directly beneath the less-informative _Hermione Granger is in shock _and the bitter _Hermione Granger can't decide who needs vanquishing more: Voldemort or Ron Weasley_.

As she read her admission, her mind wandered back to where it all began, one seemingly normal night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There had been a recent outbreak of some sort of terrible illness that only affected first years, and she suspected two fifth year Slytherins to be the cause, so she was doing a bit of undercover work after curfew. As she scoured the dungeons, thanking her Prefect status for providing her with the perfect vehicle to nourish her curious side and her tendency to overcompensate for her inadequacies by being the "hardass authority," as Ron put so bluntly put it one day, she heard a door open and close softly down the corridor. She smiled. This little mission had been so easy! Once again, she had completed an extra task and she was thrilled. The words she would later record began to arrange themselves in her mind habitually. Hermione Granger caught the perpetrators...Hermione Granger can do anything she sets her mind to...Hermione Granger is a great Prefect... She started towards the room in question and stopped outside of it, holding her breath and listening for hushed, spiteful plans to cause unnecessary harm to more defenseless first years.

She heard nothing.

She waited.

Still nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity of lurking outside of this door, she began to doubt herself. Had she even heard a sound down here at all? Why did she suspect these two imbeciles, when there was a whole school of pompous upperclassmen who could be behind the epidemic? What if someone found her, creeping around the dungeons and acting even more suspicious than her imagined "suspects"? Weren't there more important things to worry about, like the defeat of Voldemort or the end-of-year exams? Was this incessant need to always be right and in control the reason Ron didn't want her? Was he upstairs right now wondering where she had disappeared to? Did he notice she had disappeared? Was he with Lav-Lav? Why -

Then she heard it. A faint cough, the rustling of pages turning. So there was someone in this room! She straightened up slightly, banishing all questions from her mind as she planned to catch this curfew-breaking criminal.

Throwing open the door, she demanding in her most authoritative voice, "And just what do you think you're doing - " But before she could finish, she saw who she was preparing to lecture. "Malfoy!"

"Good Lord, Granger, shut the door. You're letting in some awful smell - Oh, wait, that's you. Leave the door open, I beg of you," he said airily as he eyed her up and down, casually sliding whatever he had been writing on under a stack of books on his desk. She could tell she'd walked in on something he hadn't anticipated being caught doing, but his stony face didn't betray him by revealing the importance or substance of the task. "Now," he continued, "what in the name of Helga Hufflepuff's third husband do you want? And why were you skulking in the dungeon? Hoping to find a sewer rat who wouldn't mind spending time with you? Fat chance, Gra -"

"I'd like to ask you the same question," Hermione interrupted, determined to remain calm and get to the bottom of his behavior. "I was simply doing my rounds and checking the castle for anything suspicious, but it is not I who needs to explain myself. You are the one out of bed after curfew."

"That was a lovely speech, mudblood, but you seem to have forgotten that I am also a Prefect and can ignore curfew just like you. Or are you the only Prefect who can wander the dungeons inexplicably at night? I'm sorry, I must have missed when Dumbledore decreed that one. One would assume that I would have gotten that privilege anyway, as I'm the one who has a common room in this area, but of course, someone whose nose is as far up Potty's arse as yours is would get preferential treatment..." He stopped, a sinister glint in his eye, as he waited for her to retaliate.

"Yes, scribbling in a deserted classroom is a productive way to use your Prefect privileges, Malfoy. I can see now what a fool I was for bursting in on this most important of things. If you find you should need another Prefect's assistance in doing absolutely nothing, be sure to call on me. I should be easy to find - I'll be the one doing something useful," she snapped as she turned her back on him and prepared to leave, utterly let down by this turn of events. If she hurried, perhaps she could make another apprehension before she had to go to bed...

"Well actually, Granger," came an unexpected drawl from behind her, "I could use your help."

This could certainly be nothing good.

"Draco Malfoy, requiring the help of the Muggle-born? Oh, dear. Mummy wouldn't like to hear of this, would she? How the mighty have fallen," Hermione mused as she turned to face him guardedly. "I'm not sure I can stand to aid you in this, Draco, the ruination of your family's noble reputation."

He gave her a disinterested sort of look and asked, "Have you finished? The night grows old and we haven't much time."

Dropping pretense, Hermione asked curtly, "What do you want?"

Draco's smirk of a response was enough to tell Hermione that it was not anything she really wanted to be involved in.

"Well, as I'm sure you have heard, I am regarded as somewhat of a sex god in this school. Don't give me that look, you filth. I know it's reached your ears, too, no matter how few friends you have. It's simply accepted as fact. I hear they're even teaching the first years now. 'Draco Malfoy is the ultimate lover.' Not that you would know anything about lovers, am I right, Granger?"

Caught off-guard, she simply gawked at him. "Wh- where is this going? This is nonsense, I'm leaving." But she made no move towards the door. The ludicrousy of this entire conversation held her rooted to the spot.

"Anyway, Virgin Princess, what I'm getting at is this: I need some new feedback. You know, things to keep me fresh and unpredictable, to keep my reputation untarnished and my position unchallenged," he explained silkily, smirk still in place.

"I suspect there are plenty of third year boys who would love to help you, Malfoy," Hermione said briskly, but she was becoming increasingly fidgety as the words continued to stream from his reputably talented mouth.

"For your sake and the sake of what I am trying to accomplish here, I will ignore that statement. I will say, however, that I am confident every member of the male population in this school would give his left nut for the chance to be with me. I am, as they say, irresistible. Now, back to business. You, Granger, are uncharted waters. And, of course, this doesn't puzzle me in the slightest. However, I feel that somewhere behind your rat's nest of hair and your ill-fitting uniform, there is a sexual being struggling to break free. Isn't that why you're so anxious to leave, mudblood? So you can hurry off to, ahem, break yourself free in the confines of your own bed?"

"This has gone on long enough," Hermione said shrilly. "I will not be insulted like this. I am a lady and your choice of topic is not befitting of that. You are disgusting." Truly offended, she turned to leave this time. How dare he -

"Surely your impatience is one of your many charming Muggle attributes. If you would wait, you will see that this is something worth sticking around for..."

Though she was slightly hurt by his words, she could not deny they were true. Fleetingly, she thought of her Fact Book and how only last week she had frustratedly scrawled _Hermione Granger is a virgin _after hearing Parvati describe a particularly eventful date, making her the last female Gryffindor sixth year who hadn't...done it. She turned back, set her jaw, looked him straight in the eyes and cocked a single eyebrow.

"I need you to come here, Granger, and describe to me, in detail, the things you would like done to you. I'm sure you have an active imagination and could offer me much insight into the minds of girls who are smart and innocent or...whatever. Pretend I am the Weasel King and tell me your dirty little fantasies," he commanded, the humor of the situation he had created sparkling in his eyes along with something Hermione didn't quite recognize.

That was really the last straw. How she had stayed long enough to hear this was beyond her. "No, Malfoy. This is absurd. You are such a twat that I can no longer stand to be in a room with you. Good night!"

She spun on her heel, grabbed the door handle and attempted to fling it open - but it wouldn't budge. Hermione pushed and pulled, forced and tugged and heaved and hoed to no avail.

"Perhaps the most useful thing my _dear _father ever taught me," Draco drawled lazily from behind her, "was that when one's superior gives a command, leaving the room is out of the question. Usually, this particular lesson was accompanied by some sort of painful punishment, but I'm hoping you'll see sense and come here before things get that far out of hand..."

When Hermione turned her eyes back to him, she noticed him twirling his wand and looking quite bored. Confused by the night's bizarre events and eager to simply run back to her bed and pretend it had never happened, she demanded, "Unlock this door!" And then, before she could stop herself, she added curiously, "What spell is this, anyway? I've never - "

"Of course you haven't, Granger!" Draco snapped. "Do you really think all of the spells Lucius Malfoy has used in his lifetime will be found in your beloved charms textbook? I daresay a good half of those spells would put the bloody book out of print! Now will you please sit down?" His patience had finally worn thin with her and he no longer wished to waste any time, and Hermione could see it.

Though she felt it was an absolute betrayal of her friends and everything she thought she had known about Draco, herself and the very foundation her life as a witch was set upon, Hermione moved toward the teacher's desk at the front of the room. Her feet seemed to be guided by two distinct forces and as she walked, she imagined her left was being directed by her characteristic curiosity and desire to learn while her right was being steered by her lack of sexual knowledge and experience. Perhaps she could find out more about this mystifying phenomenon her peers were so caught up in by humoring Draco. After all, he himself had said he was...what was it? A sex god? There could be no harm in attempting to glean some shred of understanding from him. Perhaps she could learn some terms to impress Parvati and that shrew, Lavender, the next time they engaged the dormitory in one of their racy discussions...

Upon reaching the desk, Hermione stood and stared at it. He was watching her, she knew that. For some reason she couldn't quite place, she felt self-conscious about climbing up on the desk and sitting down. What if she did it clumsily? Would he still want to hear what she had to say? Peeking over her shoulder at an exasperated Draco, she clambered up on the smooth top and flopped onto it unceremoniously. Acting as though it had been an act of sheer grace, she fixed him with an expectant stare.

"Well, Granger, I have to admit this all took much less convincing than I was prepared to employ. Do I detect hidden motives? Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we? Begin."

Begin? Begin? Be_gin_? With what? How? Hermione's brain seemed to be overloading. She'd been called the smartest witch in an age and yet this one subject baffled her. How had she ever gotten into this situation? So innocent and dull, she was sitting on a desk to be scrutinized by someone who knew absolutely everything there was to know about physical affection...

"I...er..."

"Granger. Honestly. 'I want the Weasel King to nibble my ear,' would do. Hell, 'I want Potty and the Weasel King to have a crazy hot shag for my viewing pleasure while I eat salted peanuts,' would be a start."

Oh, bloody hell, she thought. Why not? Why fucking not?

"I...ah...I can't believe I'm telling you this...I suppose I'd want him to start by...by telling me I'm beautiful." She could feel the blush creeping up her neck. "I wouldn't want to, er, shag anyone who didn't really care about me. I'd want him to tell me that. And then I suppose he could kiss me..." She knew that needed to be expounded upon, but she'd never been snogged before. One could hardly count Victor Krum, as she had been so worried about betraying Ron that she'd thrown him off immediately. At the thought of Ron, she snorted a bit, causing Draco to look even more annoyed. "Er, he should kiss me...nicely." Nicely? Was that even a word that could be used to describe kissing? Was there a mean snog, as opposed to her "nice" snog?

"Bloody fucking hell, Granger. This was obviously a mistake. I thought you would at least be clever enough to make something up but it appears I was wrong," Draco snarled. He seemed to be testing her. What was going on here? What was his motivation?

That single statement was enough to fuel a fury deep within the young girl on the desk. How dare he infer that her sexual prowess had anything to do with how clever she was? One didn't have to be a harlot to be intelligent! However, an intelligent girl could certainly be, or pretend to be, a harlot.

"No. You were quite right. I can do this. I'm not as innocent as you think," she lied fiercely. She was out of bed, on this desk, in this situation, and she would be damned if she was backing out now. Mustering up all of the feelings she had ever ignored in favor of studying or saving the Wizarding world, Hermione focused on an image of herself, beautiful and captivating and not a member of the precious Golden Trio, but a happy, free young girl able to do as she pleased. This fantasy girl was going to lead her through this discussion, if it killed both of them. Drawing on every test-taking trick she had ever learned, Hermione began rifling through her store of miscellaneous knowledge. Muggle motion pictures she'd watched over the summer holidays come flooding back to her and she allowed the happy fantasy Hermione to take the place of one of the silly girls in one of the romantic comedies she'd seen. Re-watching the scene in her head, she began to narrate aloud. "By nicely, I simply meant sweetly and softly, not hard. Something to remind me I'm precious...Something romantic. Perhaps he could cradle my cheek in his hand, stop briefly to look into my eyes..."

Draco seemed to be pacified by her renewed effort and took out his stashed piece of parchment. "I'm going to write all this puckey down, if you don't mind. Perhaps someday I'll turn it into notes for less fortunate blokes to study from. 'How to Get With a Lower-Class Lass Your First Time,' perhaps." The insult didn't hold the usual venom, and it seemed to be forced, not full of sincere hatred.

Hermione wasn't paying attention to him. She was watching the scene in her mind play out, and her character was kissing a man who looked an awful lot like Ron...This image seemed to act like a punch in the gut and she sucked in a large amount of air as she struggled against the hurt threatening to overpower her. Reminding herself that she was a brave, strong Gryffindor and that she'd need to deal with this emotion eventually, she trudged on. However, no matter how hard she tried to make the man in her imagination a faceless entity, it always turned back into that goddamn Weasley. She was so tired of him, so tired of being hurt...

"Then...then...er...oh...gods..." She couldn't even make words. Her breathing was becoming labored, she could feel the emotion rising within her as her body tensed. No, no, she couldn't, wouldn't cry in front of Draco Malfoy! How odd this must all look from his viewpoint...Draco's viewpoint...Draco...Draco Malfoy... And suddenly, she had an idea that she hoped would kill two birds with one stone.

"Gosh...is it hot in here or is it just me? Forgive me, Draco -" He looked up at the sound of his first name and her sudden, inexplicable change in tone. Could his plan really be working? "- but this is just so awkward for me..." Hermione unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. "There. That's better. Coincidentally, it leads right into what I would want any man to do next..." Gods, what was she doing? Trying to seduce Draco Malfoy? The idea that had seemed so brilliant mere moments ago now seemed to be the dumbest plan ever conceived. Her hurt came rushing back, this time compounded with embarrassment, and she found herself stuttering all over again. "Right, then he would, uh, take my...my...clothes..."

Suddenly, she felt a warm breath on her neck. Draco was no longer in his desk. When had he gotten up? What was going on? She tensed, confused.

"Maybe it would expedite our little study if I helped a bit?" came a husky voice from right next to her ear. The warmth that accompanied the words sent a shiver down her spine, but before Hermione could even register it, hands had reached around her from the back and were slowly unbuttoning the rest of her blouse. What in the name of Harry fucking Potter himself was going on? All thoughts of Ron and shame were lost as deftly skilled fingers made quick work of her shirt. Her breathing was sporadic and her breath caught entirely as cold air assaulted her when her top fell away. The warm hands were now running up and down her arms slowly, sensually, and Hermione was fighting to remember why she had ever disliked Draco Malfoy.

"Shh. It's all right, you see? Now, why don't you continue from the part where he takes off your shirt," came the encouraging whisper of the boy who had been insulting her only moments before.

"W-well, um, he could then - aaah!" Hermione's words were cut short by one of the hands undoing her modest, cottony bra while the other grasped her right breast. She certainly would never have thought to suggest that, so perhaps it was best she'd been cut off.

"Is this what he could do?" Draco asked huskily as he rolled her nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger.

"Mm...ungg...y-yes..."

"What about this?" He pinched it swiftly and began to roll it again. "Would he do that?"

"H-he would!"

"Mmm, that's what I thought. And I suppose it's only logical to assume his next move would be - " He turned her towards him, lowered his head and gathered the stiff little nipple into his mouth. Hermione's gasp confirmed that this, was, in fact, the next move her fantasy man would make. He suckled it for a moment longer before moving his doting mouth to its twin. Hermione squirmed, entirely taken in by her newfound sensations.

And then it stopped.

Hermione's head stopped rushing enough for her usual self doubt to creep back in. Had it all been a trick? Why was he stopping? But then his palms were flat against the desk on either side of her hips and his forehead was resting on hers. She hoped very much that she didn't have a spot on her face.

"Let's review. First, he tells you you're beautiful? Well, I wouldn't be lying if I said that. You are stunning. Second, he kisses you, am I right?" Draco asked, but before she could respond, he was kissing her himself. Much to her surprise, Hermione found that it was nice. He kept his mouth closed, which she appreciated, as she worried that if they tried anything else, she would ruin it by being terrible and - oh, well, nevermind. His tongue ran across her bottom lip and without thinking, Hermione opened her mouth to let it in. Before she had any chance to wreck it, however, his lips had pulled away just enough so they were no longer touching hers and he began to speak. "Then, he removes your shirt and does this - " He grabbed her breasts with a force she hadn't expected and she cried out softly. "Now, where does he go from here?"

"I - I don't know," Hermione managed. Vaguely she wondered if it was this confusing for everyone, or if it was only so for inept girls such as herself.

"Try," he growled.

Frantically, Hermione wracked her brain for anything that might appease him so he would continue his wonderful assault on her body. Something came to her and she blurted it out before she had time to think it over at all, which would have shocked her if she had been able to pay attention to anything but the feelings taking over her body.

"Why am I still wearing trousers?"

"That's my girl," he murmured as he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped the clothing in question.

There she sat, an almost-naked Hermione Granger on a desk in a deserted classroom in the middle of the night. Her figure was not perfect, her breasts not of any remarkable size, her stomach not as flat as other girls she knew, but she was beautiful in her own right. Seeing the look of lust on his face as he took all of her body in, she found herself feeling bolder.

"And why are you still wearing - ?" she began but he had other things to do in mind before they got anywhere near discussing him. This was all about her, first and foremost. She felt a gentle yet insistent finger on the outside of her plain white knickers and she gasped once again. "Draco, really, this is all so very - " So very what? She didn't know. All she really knew was that this was nothing she understood or felt like she could do. Any moment now, he would realize what a mistake he was making by being with her. An image of a small brown book swam through her mind and ask it opened, she could clearly read Hermione Granger is not beautiful, sexy or skilled enough for this...

"No. No talking. Stop thinking. I did enough thinking to get you here. Start feeling. Start doing. Dammit, Hermione...er, Granger, I mean...Let this happen. I'm tired of the banter, the need. This has been a long time coming, and it had better happen tonight."

Hearing this shocking revelation, hearing him actually beg and allow emotion to flow in his voice, Hermione understood how she had allowed the situation to get this far. She understood why he had begun to touch her, why she had allowed it and what she needed to do. As his words replayed in her mind again, she saw how their fighting had truly been masking something much more basic. The time for thinking had passed. She grabbed the back of his neck, lacing her fingers in his deliciously fine hair, and pulled him to her, mashing their lips together in a slightly painful way. As she did so, the finger made sure its presence was known by slipping beyond the cotton barrier and beginning to stroke around her opening. As she heard the sloppy noises it made, she wondered how on earth it had gotten so wet down there. Then, as the finger found her sensitive nub, she realized that it just didn't matter how it happened, it only mattered that it had happened. She moaned.

She pulled away from the kiss and looked at him. It was as though she'd never really seen him before. In the moonlight steaming through the window, she could see his beautiful features arranged in concentration and lust. His breathing was labored and hard and his eyes met hers with a furious desire. As his skilled finger rubbed her clit once more, Hermione threw her head back and made a noise she had never imagined she was capable of. This reaction seemed to give Draco the boost he needed because suddenly his finger had slipped inside of her.

Everything seemed to stand still.

Hermione held her breath. Draco curled his finger in a bit. She hissed. He drew it out slowly, pushed it back in. Then, there were two fingers. Hermione gave a start. These fingers moved languidly, eliciting low moans from the girl on the desk.

Then, they were gone. Hermione opened the eyes that had been closed in the beginnings of ecstasy. Why was it over? What was going on? Draco fixed her with a lustful gaze and then, before she knew what was going on, her panties were gone and she felt warm air on the inside of her thigh. He had dropped to his knees before the desk and was looking up at her suggestively. Surely he couldn't be...?

"Tell me, _Hermione_, in your wild little fantasies, did Weasley ever do this?"

"No," she breathed.

"Tell me, _Hermione_, did you ever imagine _I _would be doing this?"

"No."

"Tell me, _Hermione_, do you like this?"

"Yes!"

With every word, his hot breath caressed her most sensitive areas.

"Well then _tell me_, Hermione! Tell me to continue! I want to hear you say it."

"Go, Draco. Please, go, go," she whimpered, grabbing his hair and trying to force his head forward. She needed the contact his breath was promising. Already in this one night, she had come so far. She couldn't stop now.

He chuckled.

"As you wish..." And with that, his mouth was at the apex of her thighs, his tongue circling around her entrance. Her hips shot up and her hands pulled roughly at his hair. He lightly sucked on her bundle of nerves and she thought she would go absolutely crazy with lust. This was what Lavender and Parvati and all the other girls loved so much. She finally understood but she felt as though she liked it even more than they did. Whoever they were with could not possibly be as good as the blond nestled between her legs at that very moment. With an almost unreal grace, his tongue darted out and slid in and out of her entrance until all of her words slurred into one long, low moan. She felt more wetness than ever, and he seemed to be lapping it up. She felt as though she was getting close to something, but she wasn't sure what. Any moment now, she thought she might explode with some incredible sexual force...

Then, it all stopped.

Becoming used to the sudden loss of pleasure by now, Hermione forced open her eyes and looked at Draco pleadingly.

"But why?" she asked childishly. In response, Draco peeled off his shirt. Gleaming in the moonlight, Hermione saw his breath-taking chest. Painfully aware of her lack stomach muscle mass, she tried to drape one arm over her front while holding herself up on the left, which was still shaking from the events of only a few moments prior. Draco grabbed her wrist and moved her arm away.

"Don't you dare. I worked hard to get you naked, you foolish girl." As he said it, he undid his trousers and they slid to the floor, where he stepped out of them. Never breaking eye contact, he leaned over and stripped off his shoes and socks. When he straightened back up, he was left in only his underwear. And behind that underwear, Hermione could see, was something large, aching to get out. "Well?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Hermione felt her mouth go dry. This was all very real. And then, he was back on her, standing between her legs, kissing her with renewed gusto. His arms swept around behind her, knocking the objects on the desk to the floor. Feeling him advance, Hermione scooted backwards as he climbed up onto the desk, placing his hands on either side of her hips. Somehow, with amazing strength, he turned her and laid her down gently so that she was laying directly beneath him, looking up into his gleaming gray eyes. Then, the finger was back and Hermione couldn't have been happier. This was familiar and oh, so good. He didn't go as slowly this time, he wasn't as cautious. His fingers found their mark almost immediately and began to pump into her with vigor. She writhed beneath him like a snake and kissed him harder. Suddenly, it occurred to her what needed to be done.

She broke the kiss and began to tug at his boxers. It was hard from her position and Draco appreciated that, so he withdrew his fingers and ripped off his underwear, leaving them both completely naked on the desk. Not daring to look down, Hermione kissed him again, waiting for the fingers to return. But they didn't. Instead, she felt an almost demanding hardness at her entrance. Oh no, she thought. This was it. She, Hermione Granger, innocent, useless, know-it-all-prude, was about to be deflowered. She drew in a long, bracing breath.

Draco lightly lifted his mouth from hers and gazed down at her.

"May I?"

What? Really? Was now the time to be a polite gentleman? Of course he could! Of fucking course he could!

"Yes, yes, yes," she whined.

"Are you aware that it hurts?" he asked seriously.

"I - well, no," she admitted. She had never had time to learn these things. She had hardly ever even tried to masturbate, finding even that to be frightening and strange. Why did Lavender describe it as "the greatest feeling in the world" if it hurt? Had Parvati mentioned pain when she described her First Time? Hermione couldn't remember. She was afraid.

"It will, but I promise to make it as easy as possible. If at any time, you need me to stop, I will. However, I can promise you that if you can withstand the initial discomfort, your reward will be great."

She nodded. He proceeded. Sliding his hand down between their warm bodies, he aligned his cock with its destination and pushed forward. Hermione gasped as the head went in and he stopped. She looked relieved.

"Oh, that didn't hurt at all!" she said joyfully.

"Fuck, Granger, that was just the tip," Draco said with some exasperation. Then, cautiously, he moved forward.

The expression on her face and the high-pitched sound she made told Draco that Hermione had begun to feel some pain. He stopped, looking down at her. Her face was screwed up, there were tears in her eyes and her hair clung to her sweaty forehead in a damp yet appealing way. "Go," she breathed.

Draco smirked.. "Gryffindors," he mused. "So brave and determined." He pushed in again and this time she screamed. Draco lowered his head and kissed her softly, murmuring that it would stop hurting now, he'd gotten it in. "Do you forgive me?"

Struggling to breathe, Hermione managed a small smile. "I will if you make it worth my while," she tried to purr.

It was all the encouragement Draco needed. Slowly, he began to move in and out of the bushy-haired girl and she found that he had been right as her plain subsided into pleasure. She moaned and whimpered and watched his face carefully as he picked up speed. Soon, he was pounding into her and snarling his pleasure. "Fuck, Granger, you're so tight," and "Mm, this is so good," and "Would your loverboy do any of this?"

She enjoyed it too, very much. She began to move her hips in time with his, bucking up and down, trying to make the sensations even more amazing. Suddenly, Draco seemed to be struggling with something. His face screwed up, he asked, "Are you anywhere near coming, Granger?"

"Am I what?" she asked breathlessly, still enjoying the sex that was going on.

"Wh - fuck, you are so inexperienced!" he exclaimed as he reached his hand down once more and began to frantically rub at her clit.

"Oh! Oh!" she found herself yelling as she bucked harder than ever. "Draco! Oh!" But she doubted he could hear her. He seemed to let go out of nowhere and he was moaning and wailing, "Granger, Granger!" and she felt something warm spurt inside of her. He collapsed on her, rolling to the side so as not to crush her beneath him and struggled to regain his breathing. After what seemed like a very long time, he looked at Hermione. "You didn't, did you?"

Hermione had been laying awkwardly beneath him, wondering what was going on. "Didn't?"

"The blessed fucking virgin," he snorted. "You didn't come, Granger. No orgasm. No angel chorus. No big finale." He sighed, taking in the horrified look on her face. "Lots of girls don't their first time. Don't worry about it."

But of course, she did worry about it. She worried about it long after they'd redressed, long after they'd put the room back in order, long after they'd had the talk where Draco told her he needed her in his life and that he didn't hate her at all. She worried about it long after she agreed that they could begin seeing each other, long after their first excursion to Hogsmeade together, long after she had her first-ever orgasm the next time they shagged. She worried she wasn't enough for him and she was doing a bad job of being his girlfriend, his lover. He had worked so hard to get them together, paying those first years to make themselves sick, making it appear to be those gormless fools in his house, acting suspiciously, convincing her to enter the room and leave her inhibitions at the door that very first night. And how was she repaying him? By being a boring lay.

Of course, their relationship consisted of more than sex. Some nights, when they used their Prefect privileges to spend time together, all he wanted to do was talk to her. Her past, her ideas for the future and her thoughts about the present seemed to captivate him. On these nights, she always felt important, needed, and most importantly, beautiful. Harry and Ron tended to take her for granted. Draco appreciated her and always wanted to know more about her. She had known from that first night that there was something between them and that she had been falling for him for some time, but when he paid attention to her, complimented her, gave her gifts...Well, the more of his sensitive side she saw, the more sure she became of all of it. And he never let a night go by without telling her that it didn't matter to him if she was totally lost when it came to sex. He had thought she would know what to do that first night, that it would be the perfect way to channel all of their animosity into the love that would begin their relationship. He told her that no matter what, they would stay together and work through it. He always told her she was "improving" after every sack session, and she always pretended to be happy.

But she knew. No matter how doting she was as a secret girlfriend, she was lacking in one area. And until she could be just as good at shagging as she was at talking, conjuring his favorite meals or pretending still to hate him if they met in the halls, she wouldn't ever feel as though she was good enough for him.

Staring down at her Fact Book once again, she took a deep breath. It was time to take action. Flicking her wand at her inkwell, she turned the liquid inside to a bright scarlet. Then, after dipping her quill in the fiery jar, she slowly wrote a new, final sentence.

_Hermione Granger is going to become the greatest shag in Hogwarts._


	2. Aggressiveness

I just want to say thank you to everyone who read my first chapter. You don't know how excited I am that someone in the world took the time to read my story. Because of this good reception, I think I'll post all of my stories very soon. :) Thanks again, and I hope you like this chapter...

_---_

_Hermione Granger needs to be more aggressive._

Hermione had decided only two days ago that she needed to become a better lover for her secret boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. All too painfully, she remembered her failure to achieve orgasm their first time together and that in all of the times since, she had displayed no real prowess. She was a boring shag and she knew it. And Draco, for all his caring and doting, deserved better. When she looked back on their instances of consummation, intent on isolating her problem, she noticed a distinct lack of aggressiveness on her part. This was what she planned on fixing.

Closing her Fact Book, she stashed it away in her bag and got up from her favorite couch in the Gryffindor common room.

"Oy! Hermione!" came a loud voice from somewhere behind her.

Shit. It was Ron. Since she and Draco had begun their little rendezvous, she had been doing a great job of recovering from the pain Ron had caused her. Where before, his relationship with Lavender Brown and casual disregard for her feelings had left her unmotivated to do anything but study, complete Prefect rounds and mope in the dormitory, she was now able to get up and go on with her life. And while she supposed they were still friends, the rift caused by Lavender had now been replaced by the rift caused by Draco and her inability to tell either Ron or Harry about him. Certainly, they acted as though they hated each other in class and the Ron and Harry vs. Draco and Co. rivalry was still as strong as ever, but behind closed doors, Draco was slowly morphing into her knight in shining armor. Excluding her preoccupation with her sexual skills, Draco had managed to make Hermione feel better about herself and was slowly giving Hermione back the confidence Ron had stolen. Though they were back on speaking terms, Hermione had no time to sit around and shoot the breeze with Ron Weasley. She needed to get to the library.

"Hello, Ron," she said curtly as she made a show of getting ready to leave the common room.

"Where're you going?" he asked, stuffing his face with what appeared to be strawberry tart. Hermione marveled at what her Muggle parents would have called a "human garbage disposal" as he chowed down, managing to not spill a crumb.

"Library."

"Great!" he exclaimed thickly through all of the food in his mouth. "Mind if I come?"

YES, screamed the voice in Hermione's head. It was imperative that she get to the library and find the solution to her problems. But she knew that Draco would have told her to let Ron come along. "Keep things as normal as possible," he'd murmured to her one night as they'd shared "Prefect duties" in a third floor corridor. She'd promised she would, after all.

Glancing at him, she nodded once before scrambling out of the portrait hole. Maybe if she was rude enough, he would simply leave...Where was Lavender, anyway? Weren't they always together? Had there been a fight? Did she really even care anymore? Hermione's brained whirred with its usual flood of questions, though she never got distracted by them and lost sight of her goal for the day. Draco was certainly having an alarming effect on her.

"So, Hermione. Long time no talk!" he enthused as he, too, emerged from the portrait hole. "What have you been up to?"

She snorted. Oh, only seeing your arch nemesis behind your back and occasionally shagging him, she thought dryly. For one brief second, she entertained the notion of not using a contraceptive charm next time and allowing herself to become pregnant with Draco's child. The shocked faces of Ron, Harry, Lucius, Narcissa, Dumbledore and even Voldemort flashed through her brain. Then Ron would really, really regret what he'd done. She giggled. Ron eyed her warily as she wondered what effect that might have on the war. The Muggle-born member of the Golden Trio carrying Lucius Malfoy's grandchild? What an insane thought she was having! Just another example of the drastic change brought about by Draco, she decided.

"Nothing, Ron. What about you?" she asked, knowing this was what he wanted. Sure enough, he launched into a long story about Lavender and her crazy girl antics and her brand new hair color and how he thought it made her resemble a banshee but she liked it so that was good and how it seemed to make her, if possible, hornier than usual. The long, awful story went on and on and she thought she might go crazy before they reached her sanctuary.

"Good Lord, Weasley, do you ever listen to the rubbish that comes out of your mouth?" came a drawl from behind them. Hermione froze. Oh, no.

"Malfoy," Ron spat. "What are you doing here?"

"Always the bright one, weren't you? I happen to go to school here, actually. Quaint little place, don't you think?" He waggled his eyebrows at Ron, who had turned around to glare at him. "I see you and Granger have rekindled your romance. That's fantastic, really it is. I was in Hogsmeade last weekend while you served yet another well-deserved detention and I saw that fat little slut of yours, what's her name? Blue? Red? Who cares? The one with the horrifying new hair tint. She was getting extremely cozy with my some Ravenclaw in the Hog's Head. Good to see you're recovering so quickly though I must say, this little mudblood here isn't much of an upgrade..."

Ron seemed torn between the desire to defend Hermione or ask Draco more about this Ravenclaw Lavender had been with. Somewhere, in the very tiny part of her mind not occupied by this anything-but-ideal situation, Hermione noted that this was typical Ron: Fiercely loyal, but incredibly dim. There was no Ravenclaw boy.

"Oh, Ron, go find Lavender. Ask her about it. I can go to the library alone..." Hermione said with a bit too much bravado as she turned around too. She caught Draco's eye and quickly looked away. Ron didn't need telling twice and he sprinted away angrily.

Hermione turned to go, but Draco stopped her. "What, no thanks? You looked bored to tears. By tonight they'll probably be ancient history! You can thank me for that."

"You know I don't care about him anymore!" Hermione said quickly but Draco stopped her again.

"I know, love. Calm down. Now, why are you heading to the library? Maybe I can come along...we can have some fun..." He was standing behind her, whispering huskily into her ear. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, loving this small gesture in public, but knowing it couldn't go further for two reasons: One, neither she nor Draco was anywhere near ready to do anything more public than whisper in a hallway and two, she needed to get to the library, alone.

"No, no," she breathed. "I have something important to do. But don't worry, I'll see you tonight." She gave him a chaste kiss over her shoulder and ran off in the direction of the library before she could let her desire to turn back and invite him along overpower her. Once she arrived in the library, she went directly to the section dedicated to magical self-improvement and took down a few promising-looking books. Then, she scuttled off to the opposite end of the large room, hoping no one would associate her with the self-help section. For the first time in her library-loving career, Hermione didn't even have any intention of putting the books back. The situation called for haste.

After a good hour of searching, she found a potion that looked both relatively easy to brew and as though it would suit her needs well. Carefully, she magically transferred the recipe onto a spare piece of parchment and dashed out of the library, leaving the books for Madam Pince to find. Those types of books would never be traced back to her, anyway, she told herself soothingly.

Hoping with every fiber of her being that Draco wasn't in his common room, she rushed to the dungeons. She skidded to a halt outside of the student ingredient closet in a most un-Hermione-like fashion, looked around to make sure no one was watching and stepped inside.

"_Lumos_," she whispered and in the wandlight, she examined her list of necessary ingredients. Not wanting to waste any time, she lifted her want and muttered "_Accio acromantula blood! Accio pixie wings! Accio toadspawn!_" She checked her list again. Peppermint sticks? Why in the world would she need peppermint sticks? She'd never learned of those having any magical value... Assuming she could get some from Ron when she reached the common room, she creaked open the door, peered out and then took off for the seventh floor. Breathing heavily, she reached the Fat Lady and nearly yelled the password.

"'Honesty,' indeed!" cried the portrait as she flew open. Hermione ran past Ron and Lavender, who seemed to be having quite the row.

"Ravenclaw? As if! They're so stuck up! It would be like me asking you if you were snogging Hermione Granger!"

Hermione had to fight down the urge to stop and demand to know what Lavender meant by that, but she had mere hours before she and Draco were supposed to meet up outside the Slytherin common room. She took the steps to the sixth year girls' dormitory two at a time, grabbed her cauldron off the floor, jumped into her four-poster, drew the curtains and cast a few hasty silencing and protection charms. Then, she set to work.

Exactly 56 minutes later (just as the instructions said, much to her relief), Hermione was staring at a thick, syrupy potion of vivid magenta. It was even sparkling the way it was supposed to. Hastily, she tilted her cauldron forward and slurped the mixture. She waited with her breath held to feel a change. Then, suddenly, she felt as though there was liquid strength coursing through her veins. She threw open the curtains of her four-poster and walked purposefully out of the room, leaving in her wake the instructions for the potion. At the bottom, where Hermione must have missed it in her uncharacteristic rush, were the words DO NOT FORGET THE PEPPERMINT STICKS.

Oblivious to the fact that she hadn't brewed the potion perfectly, Hermione marched down the stairs. Ron and Lavender were curled up on the couch, obviously done with their lovers' quarrel. She stood directly in front of them and looked down at them authoritatively.

"You," she said, pointing to Ron, "broke my heart. You are an insensitive git and I have no clue what I ever saw in you. Apologize to me right now." Hermione liked the effects of this potion so far.

"Wh - what?" Ron stammered. " 'Mione, what is this?" His grip on Lavender tightened noticeably

"My name is Hermione, you jackass! Apologize!"

"Won-won has nothing to apologize for!" Lavender cut in furiously. "It's you who -"

"Shut it, you cow. You are disgusting and downright horrifying. I want that headband you borrowed from me in third year back on my nightstand by the time I finish rounds tonight!" She rounded on Ron again, feeling more powerful than she had in months. "I'm waiting."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't - "

"That's enough. I'm going to do rounds now." She pivoted and almost ran straight into Harry Potter. Wonderful, the more the merrier. He was grinning. Not for long.

"Harry. How lovely to see you. You need to accept that fact that people here care about you and you're not alone in this world. Your ridiculous idea that you need to be alone and brooding all the time really must come to an end. And by the way? It's about damn time you do something about the Ginny situation. Go up to her right now. Right now, Harry. Oh, fuck this. GINNY!" Hermione's voice rang through the common room to where Ginny was pretending to study at a table by the fire. "Come over here. Harry has something extremely important to tell you!" Then, in an undertone she added, "If I return tonight and you two haven't made progress, I'll tell her myself and I won't be delicate about it." Harry looked slightly sick as she leaned away from her close proximity to his face, and Hermione concluded that he was nervous about Ginny.

Then, Hermione strode out of the common room without looking back, leaving an Ron and Lavender to another fight, Harry and Ginny to an extremely awkward conversation and an entire astounded house to try to process what had just happened. She was disappointed to find that not only did no one stop her on her journey to the dungeons, but there was also no bad behavior to put an end to, either. Finally, she found herself at her destination.

"Greetings, Granger - " he began silkily, but like everyone else who had tried to speak to her since she drank the potion, he was cut off.

"Get inside," she told him.

"That's my common room! Don't you think we'll be caught?" he asked, astonished by her boldness.

"No. Not if we're sneaky enough. Go."

Draco felt he had no choice and didn't really want one anyway and so, led the way into the Slytherin common room, which was mercifully empty.

"Dormitories," Hermione ordered. Draco did as he was told, utterly taken aback by her sudden take-charge attitude. They sneaked up the stairs and to his bed, where Hermione cast similar silencing charms to those she'd used only a few hours before on her own four-poster. Wasting no time, she turned to Draco.

"Take off my clothes, boy!"

Draco obliged.

"Take off your clothes!"

Draco obliged, unsure whether to be amused or afraid.

Hermione took in his member, only beginning to be aroused. She pushed him down, growled and grabbed the tip up into her mouth, sucking greedily on it.

"Oh! Fuck, Granger, what has gotten into you?" Draco yelled.

Hermione didn't respond verbally. As he immediately grew harder, she licked the entire underside of his cock and flicked the top delicately with her tongue a few times. Draco moaned. She began to roll his balls in her right hand. He hissed and Hermione began to feel even more powerful. She took his entire length into her mouth and throat, fighting the urge to gag and Draco arched up into her mouth. She roughly shoved his hips back down to the bed and sat up.

"No, not yet!" she admonished before slapping him across the face.

"What the fuck!" Draco demanded. "Since when have you been domineering, you little minx?"

Hermione had gone back to her task and was gliding her mouth up and down his shaft, stopping whenever she felt him get close. He grabbed her tangled mass of curls and in retaliation she dragged her teeth along his member briefly.

"Aah!" he yelled as she said, "I'm in charge here, Malfoy. Don't forget that!" He let go of her hair and instead grabbed the headboard behind him.

Finally, she allowed him to get into it and he thrust wildly into her mouth, moaning and yelling all the while. Hermione experienced a rush of pride similar to when she destroyed even the scores of the top Ravenclaw students on a difficult exam or figured out some complex problem, like those the Golden Trio seemed to be facing more and more often these days. She was making him feel this way, she was causing him to lose control. Once again, research, determination and cleverness had prevailed.

"Oh, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck, I'm gonna - I'm gonna - " he moaned right before his hot cum rushed out in ribbon after ribbon into her mouth. Hermione swallowed reflexively and sat up, waiting for his orgasm to subside. When his breathing returned to normal, she crawled up and rested her forehead on his.

"Hermione that was wonderful. Why did you...No, how did you...Nevermind. It was very impressive, Hermione," he breathed, pushing her hair behind her ears and looking into her chocolate eyes, filled with pride.

She smiled. "Only for you. Now, what do you say we - "

She was stopped mid-suggestion by Draco turning his head to the side and retching violently.

"Draco! Draco, what happened? Do you want me to summon some medicine?" she asked frantically. Could he really be getting sick on this night of all nights? This was the night she was proving her worth in all areas of girlfriend-ness! As her mind raced, she barely noticed that she had made up such an idiotic word as "girlfriend-ness" and she tried to think of any and all illnesses that might cause heaving.

"Sit up," he coughed. She did as he asked and peered at him fretfully. "Granger, what unholy shite did you eat today? Your breath is...it's...unbearable! It's never been that way before!" Draco was never one to sugar-coat anything and his ability to insult in anysituation came bursting out of the hiding it was usually in when Hermione was around.

Hermione fought down tears. This was so embarrassing. What could possibly have caused her breath to stink? And so badly that Draco would become sick? It had been such a good night: Telling off Ron and Lavender, making Harry see sense, the potion, the empowerment...

Hermione gasped. The potion! The peppermint sticks! Oh, shit! She threw a hand to her mouth as Draco looked at her questioningly.

"I - I made a potion today...an aggressiveness potion," she admitted softly. "One of the ingredients was peppermint sticks but Ron was fighting with Lavender over what you said today so I didn't go get them from him and I figured I didn't need them and, oh, how could I have been so dumb? They were a precaution because the potion makes your breath smell bad!" She started to cry in earnest and Draco was torn, unable to decide if it was worth it smelling her breath to hug her and calm her down.

Deciding it was best to first figure this whole mess out, he asked softly, "Why did you make an aggressiveness potion, Hermione?"

She shook her head.

"Tell me."

"F-for you! For us!"

He felt as though he'd been thrown into a wall and he let out a strangled little gasp.

"Oh, Hermione, no. You know you don't need to change anything about yourself for me!" The praises he'd given her a few minute ago came back to him, making him feel sick. "It's not that important to me, Hermione. I've slept with plenty of girls, I don't need you to be good!" Shit. That came out all wrong. Reminding her of her many predecessors was extremely stupid. "I mean, sex is great, but just being with you is better!" he said, feeling like a liar. "If physical gratification was all I'm after, I wouldn't have pursued you, this relationship! I would have kept myself on the market, Hermione!" he finished, feeling his littlesoliloquy had probably been counterproductive.

She looked up and wiped her eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry. All of this was so stupid...I need to get back to my dormitory now. Good night. I'd kiss you but..." she gestured to her mouth. She gathered her clothes, putting them on hastily. As she parted the curtains and moved to step down, Draco sighed and called to her.

"Hermione. Come here."

She did, as hesitantly as the potion in her blood would allow, and keeping her mouth closed tightly.

"Good night, love," he said, and then he kissed her. Pulling away, he tried not to make a face. Hermione smiled weakly and walked away, waving goodbye.

"Oh, and Granger? One more thing..." Draco called lightly, his usual tone creeping back into his voice, strengthening her smile slightly. "No more hiding these things from me. We can talk about whatever is bothering you. Honesty is always the best policy!"

A quarter of an hour later, back in her dormitory (after sneaking stealthily through the common room so as not to disrupt the oh-so-adorable scene of Harry and Ginny, asleep, cuddled together on the couch), Hermione tiptoed to her four-poster, not failing to notice the headband that had been thrown at her nightstand. She held her breath, listening to make sure Lavender was really asleep and not lying in wait to attack her. When Hermione wasfairly confident Lavender was not plotting in her bed, she grabbed her Fact Book and sat at the desk under the window.

She looked down at it, lost in thought. In trying to avoid further embarrassment, she had embarrassed herself beyond anything she'd ever imagined she was capable. But Draco had been understanding. Hermione pondered what that meant. Either he really liked her or he fully appreciated how much her efforts were needed and supported her desire to become a good shag. She couldn't be entirely sure which of thesescenarios was true, so she took a deep, cleansing breath. Losing one battle would not lose her the war. She simply had to step up her game. She grabbed her quill, still feeling somewhat aggressive, and filled it with ink in her favorite shade of midnight blue.

_Hermione Granger failed at aggressiveness and needs to try a new route._

Suddenly, Draco's last words came floating back to her..."Honesty is the best policy."

Honesty. How many times a day did she say that very word to get into the Gryffindor common room? How many times had "Honesty, Ronald!" escaped her lips? Had her adventures with Harry not taught her that honesty was tantamount to success? The answer had been in front of her all her life!

_Hermione Granger has a new idea._


End file.
